


Foohk You

by Cena316AA



Category: James McAvoy - Fandom, Marvel, Michael Fassbender - Fandom
Genre: Celebrities, Fassavoy, M/M, McBender, McFassy, One Shot, Rough Sex, Smut, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 20:53:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8072386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cena316AA/pseuds/Cena316AA
Summary: Michael and James have to attend a celebrity gathering. Michael is not very fond of it, and James leaves him be. That is, until James spots him being overly-friendly with a complete stranger. He refuses to let Michael off easy and decides to punish him in some way. But, the end result is not what he had in mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what my life is anymore...so here's some gay porn

The streets came alive with the sounds of motors running and cars honking, workers finishing their lunches, and critters attempting to survive in a world ravaged by people.

The late-afternoon sun’s ray bypassed the glass barrier and shone on the two men still fast asleep. It landed a direct hit on the smaller Scottish man’s closed eyes. He subconsciously defended himself by placing his arm over his eyes.

Sleep already drifting away, James grabbed the clock on the bedside table and glared through half-shut slits at the glowing numbers. “Shit!” The bottom of the clock hit the wooden table with a soft thud as James rose to a sitting position on the bed. He threw the white sheet away from him and hastily stood up. Looking for the many scattered articles of clothing he had flung across the room last night during his moments of ecstasy, he paced back and forth the carpeted floor. He spotted his jeans by the unplugged television and his shirt under the bed. Some of the buttons had torn off the black piece of fabric. He couldn’t find his boxer shorts, so he just shoved his bare ass into the jeans. 

“What’s going on?” 

James turned to the groggy voice and saw Michael slowly rising, hair untamed and hand rubbing his temple. His eyes were still closed.

“It’s late. I have to go get ready for the thing later on.”

“Thing?” 

Yep. Michael was still asleep. “The ball, Michael. The ceremonial ball we were told to attend. Remember?”

“Oh, shit.” He remembered. “That’s tonight?”

James spotted his underpants at the foot of the bed. He was already fully clothed, so he balled them up and tucked them into the pits of his pockets. 

“I gotta go, Michael.”

Michael grabbed his arm. “No, wait.”

James turned to see Michael sitting on the bed. The sheet had fallen from his gleaming torso and was now splayed across his hip. 

“We still have time. That thing’s not for another few hours.”

“I gotta get ready.”

“James . . .”

 _He shouldn’t._

Letting himself be guided by the arm, James took a few steps toward Michael. He could see beads of sweat forming on Michael’s temples beneath his ginger hair.

 _He really shouldn’t._

He sat on the edge of the bed letting Michael inch closer to him. The grasp on James’ arm disappeared but now he felt a light touch travel down his side causing a shiver to overtake his body.

_It wasn’t late, yet. He could still turn away._

He felt Michael’s warm, musty breath on his neck. And, he completely melted into his arms. 

_Now it was late._

Michael started tracing James’ neck with his lips, leaving kisses in every exposed piece of skin. His fingers were playfully probing James’ torso; they had somehow made their way under James’ buttonless shirt.

“Michael . . .” James groaned into Michael’s ear.

Michael continued his soft caresses on James’ neck. His hand was now freely traveling down James’ leg.

“Michael . . .” James repeated. Still, he felt the tender assault on his bare neck continue. Knowing Michael would not respond to him any time soon, he placed his hands on Michael’s naked chest and pushed him down onto the bed. 

Michael could see the hesitation in James’ eyes. He knew he was being selfish but his body was craving for some sweet relief. One that only James knew how to provide. 

The bed creaked as James lifted some of his weight from it, and Michael’s body quickly reacted. He grabbed James’ wrist. “James . . .” he whispered.

James looked into the shining, blue eyes looking up at him, imploring him to stay. He chewed on his bottom lip as he debated what course to take. “Michael, last night, we already--”

“It wasn’t enough.” His grip tightened around James’ wrist. “It’s never enough.” 

James turned his head away from him. Michael was right. It was never enough. Not for Michael. And not for him. He wanted this, too, but there was always the risk that they would be found out. Then again, this risk was what made their secret sessions that more exciting. 

“Dammit,” James cursed under his breath before jumping on Michael’s body and bringing his lips to his. He eagerly planted kisses anywhere his lips touched leaving a trail from Michael’s pink lips down to his abdomen. He bit down on the white sheet still covering the lower half of Michael’s body and brought it down to Michael’s knees, his nose smoothly moving along the hardening shaft. Once the thin-layered obstacle was removed, James made his way back up Michael’s naked body. He quickly took the vertical pole in his mouth.

“Ah! Fuck.” Michael reached down. He grabbed fistfuls of James’ brown locks and urged him on by pushing his head down. 

James removed himself from Michael. “Hold on, mate.”

“Sorry,” Michael gasped. He was already out of breath. “Keep . . . going.” James remained still as if waiting for something else. “Please,” Michael let out in exasperation.

James placed his lips on the head of his erect cock. He lapped at it with his pink tongue as a cat does when cleaning its paws. He traced the long shaft with his tongue stopping only to provide brief satisfaction to Michael’s testicles before moving back to the tip. He took the head into his mouth.

James was teasing him. He was going so slow. Michael wanted more. He jerked his hips up to get his cock deeper into James’ mouth. 

“Ah!” Michael screamed out as he felt a gentle pressure on his dick. James had bit him. “Okay, okay. I’ll calm down. Jesus!” He let his body relax onto the mattress and allowed James to take control. 

James took the pulsing cock deeper into his mouth and then slowly brought it back up to the tip. He didn’t separate his lips from the tip, but the suspense that he just might remove himself from Michael caused his dick to throb harder. 

Loud grunts erupted from Michael as James made his way lower down the shaft. He gripped at the sheet below him to stop his fists from clamping down on James’ head and shoving his cock deep inside his throat. 

James worked on Michael’s dick for a few more minutes, relishing in the groans coming from the man in ecstasy. A small smile would make its way onto James’ face whenever he heard Michael moan his name.

“Aw, yes! Fuck! James . . .” 

He was close, James could feel it. He had had enough moments like these with Michael to be able to decipher what his body was telling him. And Michael treated him the same. They both knew each other so well and no other person had ever made either of them reach the level of bliss that they provided each other with every time they were together.

“Oh, James . . .” Michael now had one of his hands on the back of James’ head. He was guiding him up and down his shaft, but James didn’t mind. It was almost over.

Mouth gliding up and down his cock and hand caressing the loose skin beneath, Michael felt the surge overcoming him. “James . . .” He began thrusting up to meet his mouth's rhythm. “James!” He couldn’t hold back anymore. He pounded into James’ wet hole causing a squishing sound to fill the room.

James managed to keep up with the increased speed. The first few times they engaged in this, he’d had to take a break from Michael’s ravenous fucking, but now he was the one bringing Michael to his limit. 

“I’m gonna cum . . . James . . . I’m. . .” The sweat on his body had already dried, leaving him sticky and wet. His heart was beating faster than it ever had before, and his grip on both James’ head and the mattress tightened. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He pounded harder and with a final “Fuck!” he released his juice into James’ mouth.

Cum dripped from the corner of James’ mouth. He gulped down what he could and continued cleansing Michael’s dick. He licked the softening shaft clean then traveled up to Michael’s face, planting a kiss on his cheek. 

“I gotta go now. You’ve kept me long enough.”

Michael rose up and bit James’ bottom lip in response.

“Michael,” James groaned.

“Fine,” he said in a hoarse whisper before giving James one last kiss on the lips and bidding him farewell.

“I’ll see you later,” James called back as he stroked Michael’s ginger hair. “Get ready.”

Michael waited for the sound of the door shutting before letting his body fall back onto the mattress. He rubbed his head trying to rid of some of the exhaustion James had left him with. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“And done,” James said as he properly adjusted the black tie. His little affair had pushed him a bit behind schedule, but he had managed to ready himself in the allotted time. Hopefully, Michael had had enough time as well. 

He checked himself once more in the mirror gently brushing the tips of his fingers through his brown, wavy hair before exiting the room. 

A small click assured him his apartment room would be safe as he set out for the evening. Michael’s room would be down the hall; they hadn’t been lucky enough to become next-door neighbors in this hotel. Maybe next time. The long, carpeted hallway reminded him of those in horror movies, and his body broke into goosebumps. He shook the thought away and focused on the muffling thuds his black dress shoes made against the red carpet.

In front of a white door labeled “239,” he stopped and rapped his knuckles against the wooden door. Immediately afterward, he pressed his ear against the hard frame, the coldness fighting against the warmth of his cheek, and called out “knock, knock.” 

He instinctively held his breath in order to increase his listening ability. Through the door, he heard the stifled thudding of footstep, but they seemed so far away to James so he

“Knock, knock!” 

called out again while simultaneously gave a couple more raps to the door.

He waited a few more seconds, four to be exact, and again “knock, kn--”

“Dammit, James! You don’t have to knock if you’re going to be saying it.”

James smiled as the muffled voice of his closest companion came from the other side. His grin grew wider as he heard thunderous steps grow louder. He removed himself from the wooden panel.

There were a few clicking sounds as Michael worked the locking mechanisms and then the copper doorknob jiggled before finally doing a complete 180. 

Michael opened the door and stood in the frame, one hand on the doorknob behind him and the other outstretched gripping the doorframe. 

James studied the man before him. He was wearing dark navy-blue dress pants. His shoes were a darker shade of blue, and his shirt, which was opened at the collar and tie-less, was a blue so light that one less shade and it would have been considered white. If it weren’t for the open collar and his disheveled hair, his appearance would have appeared quite professional.

James gave him a disapproving smirk. “Really?”

Michael countered with a confused look. “What?”

“Where’s your tie?”

“I’m not wearing a tie.”

“Yeah, well, I can see that.” James regarded the man once more. “Well you could at least fix your fucking hair.”

“Fine I’ll fix my _foohking hair_.”

“Hey. Don’t make fun of the Scottish accent, mate. It was voted third sexiest.”

“Irish was number one, so I got you beat on that one.”

“Well, you're only half Irish, so . . . you only have me half beat.”

“ _Foohk_ you.”

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

They walked up the stony pathway that divided the green lawn. Their car had been taken by a valet as soon as they had crossed the huge, brass gates. 

“Are you sure we should be walking in together? People might start talking.” Michael flashed James a mocking, toothy grin.

“Unless we walk in fucking, I think we’ll be safe,” James replied.

The path led them to a massive house. With its many windows and single entrance, it resembled a small, private school. 

“Good evening, gentlemen.” An elderly man sporting a black and white tuxedo greeted them in front of the opened doors. Two larger and way younger men stood behind him guarding the vulnerable entrance. Or, perhaps they were protecting the frail old man himself.

“Hello,” James replied. James and the old man chit-chatted for a minute before proceeding with the guest-list process. 

While James conversed, Michael caught a glimpse inside. It was already quite crowded with A-list celebrities dressed in elegant clothing decorated with expensive jewelry. Michael was not the type to engage in these formal gatherings where people presented themselves like peacocks, only instead of feathers they showcased money on their bodies to determine their worth. This was not to his taste; however, both he and James had been urged to make an appearance by their publicists. “Good for business” was the simple reason given.

He felt a tug at his arm and looked down to see James already heading through the 10-foot tall doorway. The last thing he needed was to get separated from James and having to feign interest in a conversation with some egotistical bastard. 

A few people greeted them as they made their way through the crowded hall and to the ballroom. Michael nodded at those that did while James ushered a polite greeting or shook hands with them.

When they finally reached the ballroom, Michael felt as if he had ran a marathon. This was too much for him. If he was going to have to be here he would need some help.

He looked around before setting his eyes on just the thing he needed. He looked over at James and made his way to the other end of the football-sized room. He turned back only to check if James was still following him. He was.

Michael let out a satisfied groan as he sat on one of the unoccupied barstools. James sat next to him.

“You’re gonna be alright, mate?” 

Michael already had a small glass in his hand. He took a swig. “Now I am.”

“We can always leave.”

“No, no.” Michael could tell that James had been looking forward to this. He wanted to let him have his fun. “You go on and do whatever it is people do at these things. I’ll just be here with my friends.” Michael raised the refilled glass.

James, raised eyebrow, stared at Michael. “I’m starting to think you’re an alcoholic.”

Michael shrugged. “Irish-German. Lethal combination for my liver.” 

James chuckled and placed his arm on Michael’s shoulder. “I saw Jen and Hugh back there. I’ll see you later.” He softly rubbed his hand on Michael’s shoulder before letting it fall away. 

Michael raised his hand in answer and gulped down his third drink.

 

The room was filled with chattering people, and it had taken James longer than anticipated to spot his X-Men costars. They had engaged in conversation for a while uninterrupted, but, once Hugh was spotted by one person, other people kept coming up to them and cutting their conversation short. Role proposals, questions, and idea exchanging were among the disturbances that hindered their conversation. With an apology and “talk to you soon,” Hugh left the small group. Not long after, his other companions went their separate ways as well, and James himself was heckled by other celebrities. It was deemed impossible to have an entertaining conversation amongst his friends, so he gave up on engaging with them and instead immersed himself in work-related discourses.

James had been caught up in an exchange with an associate of an associate; however, polite conversations tend to get boring quickly. His thoughts began to wander amidst his mind, and he found himself trying to look past the busy crowd to the other side of the room. _I wonder if Michael’s alright_ was the thought that kept invading his mind. He finally found an opening between two women and managed to get a glimpse of Michael. He was engaged in a conversation with someone. A woman. He was laughing as she talked about something humorous apparently. James looked on as Michael said something in reply and she placed her hand on his leg as she burst into laughter as well. 

“Excuse me. I have to go.” Before the other person could respond, James took off. He stormed to the bar, bustling through the crowd. He didn’t excuse himself when he bumped into a woman with a white flowing dress nor when he stepped on a man’s brown leather shoe. His gaze was fixated toward the bar and nothing around him mattered.

 

Michael had been on his sixth drink when she had sat next to him. They had engaged in polite small talk until she admitted that she was a huge fan of him and had modeled some of her acting after his. Impressed, Michael had asked her to humor him with some lines. They recited some from popular scenes, and, perhaps it was the alcohol, Michael began to adlib some turning their recital into a stand up comedy routine. 

He was amidst laughter when he felt a hard thud on his shoulder. “What the fu--James.” His anger quickly disposed as he registered James’ face. “What’s u--”

“Hey, can we go somewhere . . . to talk?”

James was smiling, but Michael could see he was not happy. He looked pretty pissed. He finished his drink and turned to his female companion. “It was nice talking to you.”

“You’re leaving already?” She didn’t even try to hide her disappointment, and, for some reason, this pissed James off even more.

Michael turned to him trying to read his face, then, unable to decipher anything, he addressed her. “I’m not . . . sure. But, just in case, you know. See you around. Maybe one day we’ll work together on a film or something.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“You’re a great actor. Keep it up.” He took her hand in his as they bid each other farewell. A small smile crept up on her face as those words echoed through her head. She watched as he walked away fantasizing about a future where they did work side by side in a project leading to a stronger relationship than just costars. 

 

The hall that was once packed with celebrities greeting one another was now nearly empty. They were either conversing in the ballroom or on their way out. James led Michael through it. He took a right to reach the staircase and guided his companion up the steps to the second floor. 

“Where are we go--”

“Nowhere.” 

James was pissed alright. Michael knew him well enough to be sure of this. 

They reached the top of the stairs and stopped in front of the second door on the right. James tested the doorknob and, seeing it unlocked, flung the door open.

James shoved Michael into the restroom. He stayed behind for a second glancing around to ensure nobody was seeing them and quickly made his way inside, gently shutting the door behind him.

He was still in the process of locking the door when he felt Michael’s strong hands grasp his collar. His lips crushed James’ as he hungrily pushed his tongue past the barrier. He could taste the alcohol that still lingered on Michael’s tongue.

James pressed his palms against Michael’s chest and pushed him back, his hip hitting the edge of the sink. Michael made a grab for him but James took a step away from him.

Eyebrow raised in confusion, Michael swung his arms back to his side. “Wha--”

“Is your _cock_ enjoying the festivity?” James had his arms crossed, which reminded Michael of a tantrum-throwing toddler.

A small chuckle escaped his throat. When he saw James disapprovingly look up at him, he stifled it with the back of his hand. “Sorry,” he managed to utter. James offered no response. He was no longer looking at James, but he could feel his glare burn through his skin. He was still in a state of confusion, and the glare James was giving him did not help. Nor did his current level of intoxication.

“Dammit, James,” Michael couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “What are you talking about?”

James grasped the crotch area of Michael’s pants, his fingers clutched tightly on Michael’s dick. 

He was actually getting quite horny by this sudden action, but he’d be damned if he’d allow James the upper hand. James was pissed off so Michael was going to be pissed as well. Michael grabbed James’ wrist and freed himself of the grip on his crotch. 

James began to frantically bring his arm back to his side, but Michael’s hold on his wrist was too powerful. “Let go!” he commanded.

Michael tightened his hold on James. “What the fuck’s the matter with you?”

He continued to struggle against Michael’s grip. Michael, seeing that James was not going to answer him unless he won this small battle, reluctantly loosened his hold, and James broke free.

“Oh, as if you don’t know, you fucking prick.”

“I honestly don’t fucking know!”

“Well, you were awfully chatty with that woman, weren’t you?”

Michael failed to hold back his laughter. “That woman? Is that what this is about? Fuck, James. I never pictured you as the jealous type.”

“It’s not funny. And, I’m not jealous! It’s just . . . she--she was really into you, you know. And, technically, you’re single, so . . .”

“I barely met the girl.” He paused for a while as he examined the look on James’ face. It was either anger or worry, Michael couldn’t tell which. Perhaps both. “Look, I love you, James. And, I’m willing to keep this up--this thing we have going on between us--for as long as we can. Okay?” 

James stared at Michael with cold, hard eyes saying nothing.

Anger, Michael thought. It’s anger. “James? I mean it. I’ll do it. I’ll do anything it takes to continue this charade as long as I can be with you.”

James muttered something in response.

“What?”

James looked up at Michael with sparkling blue eyes. “You . . . love me?”

Michael, taken aback, took a moment to process the question. “I didn’t say that.”

“Yes, you did! You bloody fucking did, Mike.” 

“I, uh, I don’t remember.” Michael made his way past James and reached for the door.

James slapped his hand away. “No. You did.”

“You’re hearing things.”

“Oh, okay, now I’m seriously pissed off.”

“You mean you weren’t before?”

“Oh, fuck . . .” James pushed Michael back onto the sink. This time the sink buried into the small of Michael’s back with more intensity causing him to wince. 

James pounced on Michael and furiously began to work on his jeans. He pulled at the waistband and threw them down Michael’s legs. (Michael swore he heard a snarl emanating from James’ throat.) James’ furiosity was turning Michael on that by the time his pants made it past his knees, his erection was already poking straight out with only his black trunks keeping it from freedom.

“So, your cock was enjoying the night after all,” James said he grasped the firm erection.

“I don’t think it’s the party that caused this.”

“Oh?” James’ eyebrows furrowed, and the sparkle in his ocean blue eyes had been replaced by a fiery anger.

Michael pulled James closer to him and kissed his exposed neck, undoing his tie in the process. James let Michael have his fun. He let his lips kiss every crevice of his neck. He let the tie fall from around his neck to the cold, hard floor. And, he let Michael touch every clothed part of his body. His fun was not going to last much longer, though. Michael had been flirting with that woman ignoring his own personal feelings in the process. Yes, he’d let Michael believe he’d won him back for a little while longer, but then James was going to dispose of this fantasy. He was not going to let Michael go unpunished. He had hurt him.

After a couple more minutes of his caresses, James felt Michael’s cock grow harder. Now! James bent down and brought Michael's pants back up. He worked on the zipper and button as Michael looked on in confusion. Once his dick was confined again, he untangled himself from Michael's hands and took a few steps away from him. “I’m still mad at you,” James said with a smirk. _Sorry, Michael. But, you do not deserve me right now._

“Good.” Before James had time to register what had happened (he had not expected that response), Michael grabbed his shoulders and shoved him against the sink, the cold rim smashing into James’ abdomen with a sharp pain. Behind him, Michael brought his lips close to James’ ear (he could feel the warm, alcoholic fumes swirling about him) and whispered, “I get pretty pissed, too, when people accuse me of things I didn’t do.” 

He planted a few small kisses down the back of James’ neck, causing goosebumps to appear where his lips touched, before ripping James’ shirt open. The clattering of buttons on the tiled floor echoed through the room. And, as the cold sink made contact with his naked torso, James broke out in a spasm of chills. 

Michael flung the coat and shirt across the room. They landed on the edge of the recently shined bathtub as if somebody had gently placed them there momentarily.

“Michael, what--” James felt a hand slide under his pants and grab hold of his groin. He let out a low moan. “Michael . . .” It wasn’t he who had been in control. It was Michael. How could he have been so foolish to believe that he could ever be in control of the Irish-German beast? He failed to anticipate this outcome. And, now, James’ fun was over.

With his free hand, Michael had unclasped the button and zipper from James’ pants. They fell down to his ankles. He continued jerking James off as he removed the gray trousers, his grip switching from soft and gentle to furious and punishing.

“How do you like it now, James? Still think I was being . . . ‘unfaithful?’ Huh, James?”

James could do nothing but offer grunts in return. Pain shot through his groin like a fire spreading across a dry field. For a second, he thought he had gone blind from the pain but realized that the darkness enveloping him was due to his eyes being tightly shut. He shouldn’t be enjoying this. Right?

The grip eased off his groin for a while. The sounds of his moaning and grunting had been replaced by a shuffling sound. And then a clinking sound. 

He slowly opened his eyes. Through the mirror, he saw Michael behind him. Their eyes met. Instinctively, James brought his gaze down to the silver faucet. He was mad at himself. Mad for not being able to even look at Michael. Mad for letting himself be fooled into thinking he was in control. And, mad for the excitement he felt at this very moment. 

A zipping sound pierced the room, and he forced himself to look up. The first thing he saw reflected on the mirror was Michael’s smirk. But it was his eyes, his eyes which seemed to taunt him, that drove chills down his spine. 

With one finger, Michael trailed James’ side. His finger went up, up until he reached James’ naked earlobe. Then . . .

James body folded as his head was pushed down into the emptiness of the sink, his nose inches from the cold porcelain. His breathing had grown rapid. 

Michael studied James’ naked back and used his free hand to trace his spine. He trailed his fingers down to James’ bottom. He rubbed his palm on James’ ass preparing it for a new sensation. Satisfied with the firm grip on James’ head, he brought the hand on his bottom up and brought it back down with a loud SMACK leaving a visibly red mark on the creamy skin. He did it again. And again. Each time a small quiver escaped from James’ rose red lips.

“What’s wrong, James?” Michael said in a soft voice. “What happened to the punishment you were gonna unleash on me?”

“Fuck you.”

Michael pouted for a bit, as if he were thinking it over. “Nah. I think you’ll be the one getting fucked right now.”

With that, a sharp pain jolted through James’ body. His knuckles went white as he clenched the sides of the sink. “Ah! Fuck! Fucking Hell!” he yelled.

Michael hushed him as a mother would a child awakening from a nightmare. “They’ll hear us, you know. You wouldn’t want that, right?”

Michael kissed James’ shoulders and played with his brown curls. Once he saw James’ body relax under him, he stood upright. With both his hands on James’ hips, he prepared to dwell even deeper. He was worried, though, about the noise. If going in prepared caused a few minor yelps, then going in dry was going to be torturous. He had never engaged in this form of sexual action before, but if the head of his penis had caused James’ this much discomfort, he could imagine what would transverse next. In addition, it was difficult to enter somebody this way. He could stop. Forget it all. Move on with their night. But, he wouldn’t. He was enjoying this, and he could tell James was, too. With his mind made up, Michael drew his penis deeper into James’ hole. 

As Michael had predicted, James’ let out a loud scream. He had tried to stifle it, but the pain was insurmountable. His body was also responding to this newfound sensation. Sweat covered his palms making it difficult for him to hold on to the sink, and his knees nearly buckled out under him. “Mi--Mike! It--ah!--hurt!”

“Punishments are supposed to hurt, James, or else they wouldn’t be punishing.”

Michael was only halfway inside James. He could go in slowly, but why should he draw out the pleasure. He clenched James’ hips and pushed himself all the way into James’ with a loud groan. 

“Ah! Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” James pounded on the sink with his fists as his asshole throbbed against the intruder. “Fuck!” 

Michael stood still listening to the sounds coming from the sink. Luckily, the penetration had drove James’ face into it, muffling James’ screams. Maybe this would be enough to keep anybody from eavesdropping. Maybe not. Frankly, he didn’t care. At least, not for now. 

His cock exited James slowly, not because he wanted it slow but because the friction wouldn’t let him go any faster. With the head still inside, Michael stopped pulling and began pushing. Slower than he wanted to, Michael reentered James.

James felt Michael exit and enter him many times. The slow process was deafening. He wanted Michael to go faster, but, at the same time, he knew it wouldn’t be easy on his tender hole. After a few thrusts, whether it was his imagination or his body becoming accustomed to this abuse, the pain began to subside. Pleasure overtook him every time Michael’s huge cock hit his prostate. His body now relaxing, he let himself become engrossed in the act. He listened to the slapping sounds (intertwined with his own heavy breathing) Michael’s thighs made as they slammed into his buttocks. He shivered against the fingers that were pulling and squeezing on his sensitive, pink nipples. He melted into the sink, his left cheek pressing down against the coldness of it, as he succumbed to the intense feelings in his loins, feelings that had taken over his mind. He realized that he had been masturbating in rhythm to Michael’s thrusting. He had no recollection of his hand ever reaching down there, yet there it was pinching and pulling.

The low moans urged Michael to continue, but it was the sight of James’ hand moving up and down his shaft that drove Michael over the edge. _So, that son of a bitch is enjoying this_ , Michael thought with a grin. His grip on James’ hips tightened as he pounded into James’ hole evoking a small yelp from the man under him (Michael’s nails had dug into James’ skin, and the new pain had taken his body by surprise). He wasn’t holding back his grunts. He couldn’t. He had never felt this much sexual pleasure in his life. It was intoxicating. With each thrust, his cock sent a wave of sensations throughout every muscle in his body. 

The room became a hurricane of sounds. Grunts. Panting. Curses. Slapping and smacking. It was as if their pleasurable unity would never end, but Michael’s cock was now pounding into James’ hole with ease. And, James’ own dick felt on the urge of explosion.

James’ continued pleasuring himself. His hand moved faster and faster as if he were trying to tear off his own cock. “Oh! Fuck.” James gasped for breath. “Fuck. Michael . . .”

Michael, also trying to regain his breath, spoke in between pants. “Whats . . . wrong . . . James?” His thrusting never slowed. He kept the rhythm going. In and out. In and out. Michael cursed under his breath as he succumbed to his sexual urges.

“I--I can’t hold on--I have to--” James’ dick jerked in his hand as he gave it one final tug. “Ahhh! Oh! Fuck!” Everything went black, and all the air in his lungs escaped. He gripped the sink with his “not busy” hand until his knuckles turned white. With a groan loud enough to be heard by anybody on the other side of the door, James reached his climax. Drops of sweat (or were they tears?) landed at the bottom of the sink. They dripped down into the black hole.

And, just like that, the greatest orgasm James had ever had came to an end.

His body went completely limp. If not for the sink, James would have fallen to the floor there and now. He let go of his already limp cock and clenched his hand. It was sticky. He didn’t have to look down to know why. He could already picture the white substance drooping between his fingers. He noticed a numbing sensation in his other hand and realized that he was still gripping the sink. He stretched out his fingers and feeling slowly spread throughout his hand. Every ounce of strength in him had slithered away. The only thing he could do now is continue getting fucked. 

James asshole had tightened around his dick during his earth-shattering orgasm entrapping Michael’s hard cock. He pushed as far in as he could refusing to lose to James. He uttered a low fuck as he drove his cock in as hard as he could. “Dammit, James!” He repeated his lover’s name over and over again as he thrusted into him. His utterances turned into low growls as his cock began to twitch inside the dark cavern. He felt it coming. In preparation, he clutched James’ hips until his nails dug into his soft, fair skin, and he threw his head back. And, then, finally . . .

James felt himself being filled with Michael’s fluid. It flowed deep inside as Michael pushed James’ ass toward him in order to drive his cock even deeper into him. 

As his orgasm reached its peak, Michael let out a loud groan. He rode the sexual high he was experiencing patiently waiting for it to end. He let his dick rest in its current haven until it was ready to be released. Realizing his nails were still digging into James, he softened the grip on his hips and rubbed the premature bruises that decorated his smooth skin. He bent over James and placed a few, small kisses down his neck. His shirt stuck to James’ naked, wet back.

Breathless, Michael began to remove himself from James. With a wet, slopping sound, his dick limply unchained itself from James. Michael let go of James’ body and took a step back. His naked ass hit the cold wall. Still experiencing the aftereffects of the sexual high he had just engaged in, he let his body rest against the wall as he waited for it to disperse. Sweat dripped down his naked body, his skin was flushed red, and his breathing had not attained its usual rhythm. 

As Michael struggled to reclaim his natural body’s state, James, too, was in the process of regulating his breathing. His heart rate had returned to normal, but sweat (tears?) was still dripping from his face and palms; however, sweat wasn’t the only thing leaking from him. He could still feel the familiar sticky substance between his fingers, and he felt another similar substance leaking from his sore asshole. He was still leaning against the sink, but now that the euphoria had passed, the soreness his muscles were suffering had now reached his brain. He stood up. His bones, muscles, and every single inch of his body ached as if he had engaged in the most strenuous work-out ever experienced by a single person. (Well, he wasn’t completely wrong.) He stretched his back and swore he heard some of his joints crack. He studied his dirty hand. _Good thing we’re in a restroom_ , he thought. He turned on the sink and started cleaning up.

Michael observed as James ran his fingers through the cool stream of water. He watched him clean the cum off his hands. Michael examined his own body. His cock was still exposed. He pulled his pants up and adjusted his shirt. Using the mirror in front of him, he brushed his fingers through his hair until deemed passable and headed for the door. He unlocked it.

“Wait!” 

Hand on the knob, Michael turned around. James was sitting on the toilet still out of breath. “What?” he said coldly.

“Well, I’m still . . .” Not only was James completely naked, but he was pretty sure that cum was leaking out of his asshole. Michael had really loaded him up.

With a smirk, Michael said, “Not my problem,” and turned the knob. “Lock up before somebody walks in on you. It’s going to be pretty hard to explain, don’t ya think?” He walked out the door slamming it behind him. James was sure he heard him laugh.

“Dammit!” He got up and locked the door before continuing with the cleaning process. He used toilet paper to clean himself up thinking over and over again how glad he was that it had happened in the restroom. This was much messier than how it was portrayed in Hollywood. He ran his hands through the faucet once more and applied water to his hair and face. He also washed his more private areas getting rid of as much of Michael’s stupid cum he had left behind. “Fuck! That fucking asshole . . . Fuck him!”

As soon as his clothes were back on, wrinkled but presentable at least, he checked his hair again, smoothed it down a bit more, and headed for the door. He unlocked it and rushed outside in such a hurry (he wanted to be out of there as soon as possible) that he almost collided with Jennifer Lawrence. 

“Oh, shit! Sorry,” he managed to burst out.

“No, it’s cool,” Jen said as James pushed past her. Then, as she remembered something, she called out to him. “Oh! By the way, Michael told me to tell you that he loves you. He said you’d know what it means . . . Idk, man.” With a look on her face that resembled a combination of confusion and “I don’t really care” she continued down the hall. 

James continued walking. “Fucking, stupid, fucker!” His ass was still sore and now this! If he wasn’t pissed off before, now he was. Michael was fucking with him in more than one way. 

He made his way out the building without bothering saying goodbye to the old greeter. He was about to ask the valet for his car when he spotted it a few feet away. “What the Hell . . . Michael!” Although it was dark, he spotted that familiar silhouette in the passenger’s seat. “Michael!” James ran across the yard ignoring the searing pain below. “Michael!” He tore open the door to the driver’s seat and got in. “What the fuck?!” 

Michael, still sporting a smile, gave him a shrug.

James spoke in a loud whisper, like a mother reprimanding her child during mass. “Fucking Hell, Michael. What the fuck was all this about? You fucked me, bad may I add, and then you just leave me there. And, then, to make matters worse, you have Jen deliver that fucking message to me. What the fuck were you thinking?! What if she lets it slip and then the media--”

Michael had reached for the back of James neck and pushed him forward. Their lips met. They kissed for a while, their tongues dancing in unity. Finally, Michael let him go. 

James broke the silence. “What the fuck? What if somebody saw--”

“Let them.”

“What?” James thought Michael had gone crazy. Maybe he had fucked his own brains out.

Michael sat back in his seat. He looked straight ahead. “Let them.” Now, he turned his head to James. “I love you, James.” He leaned torward him and let his lips brush against James’. “And, I don’t care who knows.” He sat back in his seat and adjusted the seatbelt. “Now, _let’s get the foohk outta here, mate_ ,” he said in his mock Scottish accent.

James turned on the car. With a chuckle he replied, “Fuck you, asshole.”

Michael licked his lips. “I think it was your asshole that got fucked.”

Face reddening, James replied, “Let’s just go . . . My ass is sore.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Yours!”

“Oh, right.” 

James turned. Michael was looking out the window, but he could see the reflection. And, the reflection was sneering at him. “Ugh! You piss me off so much!”

“And whose fucking fault is that?” Michael retorted.

James gripped the steering wheel. “Ugh!” He shifted gears and turned to go. “I fucking hate you.”

“Aw, I thought we loved each other. But, maybe you can show me how much you hate me when we get to the hotel.”

“Oh, I’m going to show you alright.”

“Are you?” Michael turned to look at him. His eyes were already gleaming, and his smile was as menacing as it had been in that bathroom mirror.

But, James was not going to let him win again. “You’ll fucking see.”

“Can’t wait,” he said matter-of-factly.

James drove a little over the speed limit as he calculated how exactly he would seek his revenge. _I’m going to punish him so fucking hard_ , he thought. _So fucking hard._

“Wipe that look off your face,” Michael interrupted the dwelling silence. “It’s getting me hard again, and these pants are pretty damn uncomfortable.”

The comment along with the stupid grin pissed James off. “Oh, you are so going down tonight.” 

“Am I?”

“Fuck you.”

“No,” Michael adjusted his accent, “ _foohk you_.” 

Blood rushed to James’ face and to his cock as he started thinking about the many ways he was going to make this man pay tonight. He was going down!


End file.
